


I'd Be Having Nightmares if Only I Could Sleep

by jebbypal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-03
Updated: 2006-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jebbypal/pseuds/jebbypal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has nightmares too, but some are just memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Be Having Nightmares if Only I Could Sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poisontaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/gifts).



_"Where's Daddy? When's he coming home?"_

"I dunno, Sammy. Did you finish your new coloring book yet?"

Dean bolts upright in bed, looking frantically around the darkened motel room. It takes a second to remember that he's not nine years old anymore.

Then it hits him all over again. Dad's dead. He'll never come home again.

Reality crashing in, he ignores the pain of broken ribs and still healing stitches to make it to the bathroom before he vomits.

* * *

 

"We should talk about Dad," Sam says from the shade of Bobby's tool shed.

"What's to talk about? We burned his body and now we have work to do. And no car to do it with," Dean answers.

"It's not your fault."

It takes all his self restraint to not throw the wrench he's holding directly at his brother's head. Why the hell is Sammy even talking about this shit? It's over and done with and nothing in this world is ever going to change that. Dean should know. He's watched his father try to undo that long ago night for over twenty years.

Anger pushed back down, Dean turns on his autopilot of sarcasm in an effort to drive Sam away. "Damn straight. You were driving when the demonic semi hit us. Ergo, it's yours."

"God damn it, Dean, this isn't a joke. Dad's dead and you have to face it."

Should have known it wouldn't work. Never did when Sam was a kid, either. Anger and lashing out, now that always did the trick. Shows him for trying to be a mature, nice guy.

"Get away from me, Sam, or go to hell. Either way, I'm done talking," Dean says as he gets to work on the Impala. And trying to forget what his dad's smoldering flesh smells like.

* * *

 

"He's your little brother, Dean-o. You have to look out for him. All the time, not just when I'm hunting or you feel like it."

Dean scuffs his foot against the brownish grey shag carpet. "I was just around the corner playing ball with the guys. I woulda heard the school bell."

"How long would it have taken you to get back to the yard?" Dad's hand yanks Dean's chin up. "I'm talking to you, mister. Look me in the eyes when I do. How long?"

"Five -- ten minutes, sir."

"Do you know what can happen in ten minutes, son? Do you?"

Flames burst in Dean's mind. It took a lot less than ten minutes for him to run out of the house after Dad told him to get outside with Sammy. Whole worlds can end in less than ten minutes.

"There's more evil in this world than just the things I hunt, son. You have to protect Sammy from more than just monsters. You have to protect him from bad people too. That means you never let him out of your sight when he's not in school. Do you understand me?"

Dean nods. He's never been allowed to forget what his mission is. Sammy. Always Sammy.

* * *

 

Once the Impala's fixed and they've visited Mom's grave, Sam starts badgering him to go back to Lawrence and pay Missouri a visit.

There's nothing in this world that Dean wants less. A lot of the time - _After,_ before they left Lawrence for good - is a blur. But once he and Sammy had gone back and found her again, only looking strangely shorter to his adult eyes, he clearly recalled every moment he spent with Missouri. Or more exactly, every minute she spent badgering him.

Sometimes he thinks he started talking again just so he could get her to shut up.

The fifteenth time that Sam brings up Lawrence, shortly after they've dealt with demon at the crossroad, Dean finally snaps. "Look, I went to Mom's grave – where she isn't even buried. We'll send Missouri a letter and then she'll know and we won't have to deal with any chick flick moments. Will that make you happy?"

"No."

"No. No! What the fuck? What do you want from me, dude? We've got things to hunt and need to find a way other than the colt to kill that yellow-eyed bastard. We don't have time to arrange memorial services."

"Dean, that's not the only reason I want to go see Missouri," Sam says in a very quiet and calm tone.

Dean glances over at him when he shifts the Impala into a lower gear and raises an eyebrow.

"The demon said he had plans for me, and for the others. Missouri might know what it meant. Or be able to ask something what it meant," Sam explains, his expression equal measures of earnest puppy-dog eyes and unrelenting fear.

"Fuck," Dean says as he slows the car and does a U-turn on the grassy meridian of the interstate. He really hates it when Sam has a point.

* * *

 

_"Your Daddy's never coming home," Missouri says as her eyes flash yellow. "If you listen hard at midnight, you'll hear his screams. Can you imagine how the coals of hell feel second after eternal second?"_

Dean shuts his eyes and wishes he could shut his ears as well.

"Your fault," she hisses. "He died for you."

Dean bolts upright in bed and lunges to the bathroom. After the first round of dry heaves pass, he locks the door in case the noise wakes Sam. He looks in the mirror and blood shot eyes stare back.

_All I ever wanted was for you to come home and stay for good_, Dean thinks. He remembers all the times that Dad returned from hunting and Sam threw himself into Dad's arms as soon as he walked into the motel room. Those moments, Dean hated his little brother. Dean could never say what he wanted to or let emotion weaken him, not when he had to prepare himself to protect Sam all the time.

And now, after everything, his Dad took away every chance he might have had to say any of it. He's dead, Dean's alive, and nothing is the way it ever should have been.

Water still running in the sink, Dean collapses on the grungy bathroom floor and lets his emotions take over one more time. Just one.

* * *

 

"You didn't sleep again," Sam says as they drive.

They'll hit Lawrence this afternoon unless they run into a traffic pileup or something worse. A big smoky forest fire would mean they'd have to stop too. Something to look forward to.

"I slept. Some of us just don't need as much sleep to look pretty," Dean says with a shit-eating grin. His face goes slack when Sam shakes his head and looks away out the side window.

Sam's right. He doesn't sleep. Sam isn't the only one avoiding dreams.

* * *

 

The first time it was two nights alone in the motel room. It had been just before Thanksgiving, so Dean had been able to find some Charlie Brown cartoons on TV to keep Sammy distracted.

The fourth time it was a whole week. After the third day, Dean'd kept Sammy home from school because he was too worried that Sammy would cry to his teacher about Daddy leaving them all alone.

He thinks it was the eighth, or maybe the tenth, that it was almost a full month. Every night after the first week had ended, Sammy asked, "When's Daddy coming home?"

Dean cried himself to sleep the night that Sam asked if Daddy was in heaven with Mommy.

* * *

 

"Come on, man. You'll hurt her feelings if you don't come in," Sam says.

"Nah, man. I'm good. I'm going to grab a little shut-eye while you talk. You can fill me in later."

Sam stands there with the car door open for a few moments before he shakes his head and slams it shut. "Whatever. Suit yourself, dude."

Dean leans back against the headrest and enjoys the silence. The warmth of the sun through the windshield slowly relaxes his muscles from the hours of driving and it's not long before his eyes close against his will.

Rapping on the driver's side window wakes him from a sound, dreamless sleep. Predictably, it's Missouri and she's glaring at him.

After remembering that she never goes away when she has that particular look on her face, Dean rolls the window open a crack.

"Boy, you get out of that car so I can smack you proper before I hug you."

"Ya know, I think I'm just fine here. Comfortable even."

Missouri just steps back enough for him to open the door and crosses her arms. "All of this is your fault, Sam," Dean mutters as he gets out of the car. He's sure Sam is watching from the safety of the house. And laughing his ass off.

Surprisingly, Missouri only lightly slaps him before grabbing him into a bone crushing hug. Used to be, the strength always went into the slap or the spanking and then a light hug.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to take a breath and now he can't breathe. After a few painful gasps, Missouri realizes and lets him go.

"Your daddy always did have more love than sense. I'm so sorry," she says.

Dean can't take the pity, so he looks away. "Yeah, well, I'd have probably done the same."

She huffs at him. "And yet you didn't. Why is that, do you wonder?" She steps over beside him and leans against the car while pulling him close with one broad arm. "You did the right thing back at the crossroads. Before that, you were ready to do the right thing as well. Always better to let nature take its course. Fighting against nature, well, you might almost say that's the definition of original sin."

Dean just looks down at the ground and tries to ignore how blurry the dirt's become.

She sighs when he closes his eyes and he feels like he's a little kid again. "That thing was a demon. They're not exactly known for telling the truth."

"Why lie when the truth hurts worse?"

"I don't know. I just know that he wouldn't want to see you carrying all this burden alone. Neither would your mom. He was a grown man, Dean, and you weren't in any position to stop him. Moreover, that's not your job and it never should have been."

She's right. "But is he-?"

"I don't know, Dean. I don't feel him. He's not on this plane of existence. That much I know." She drops her arm and starts to leave him, but he grabs her hand and holds on tight.

They stand like that till dusk starts to fall. Then she pulls him off the car and pushes him firmly towards the house. "Dinner'll be delivered any minute. Then you boys will stay here tonight. And don't you even think about backtalking me, Dean Winchester. Wouldn't hear it from you when you were seven, and I'm not about to start now."

* * *

 

_He and Mom are at a movie theater watching Bambi. They're in the first row and he's snuggled up in her lap watching the big screen. They stay like that even as the credits roll and he just soaks it up. Daddy says he'll have to stop sitting in her lap after Sammy's born. That the baby will need it more. Dean doesn't like to think about that, though he is excited to have a little brother to play with._

"Dean, honey, look at me," Mom says and he does. He doesn't think there's any other Mommy that's prettier in the whole world. "No matter what happens, you know you'll always be my baby boy, right?"

Dean nods.

"I know what your dad's taught you. I don't necessarily like it, but it's good that you help people. I just want you to know that it's okay to be sad, Dean. It's okay to hurt and it's okay to cry and it's okay to be scared. That's the nice thing about having family. It's Sammy's job to protect you too."

"Hey, rise and shine, Dean. We've got to get on the road if we're going to make it on time to meet Jo," Sam says as the bed rocks from his none too gentle kick.

Confused, Dean blinks at the bright light and looks up to see his brother towering over him. Backlit like this, his hair is almost the same color as Mom's.

Mom. The dream.

He looks at the door and sees Missouri in the hallway. She just winks and turns away. "Breakfast is on the table in fifteen," she hollers.

"Come on, she's making French toast."

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second."

He doesn't know what to think of the dream. Was it Missouri? Or did she just work some hoodoo to keep the nightmares away?

He guesses he'll find out when he falls asleep the next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for poisontaster for her birthday and beta-ed by mona1347. Inspired by the song _I'd be Having Nightmares If Only I Could Sleep_ by the band Daddy


End file.
